


Traditions

by fatfingers



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:58:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatfingers/pseuds/fatfingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life can be hard when you're living in a cave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote for Anna's birthday. I don't know what it is...

Originally posted on LJ [here](http://fatfingers22.livejournal.com/3723.html#cutid1).

* * *

 

Their first Christmas together wasn't anything special. What with Arthur almost dying, and then Merlin's mother, and then Gaius sacrificing himself.  
  
Sure, that was more than a week before the holiday, but it took them longer than that to heal. Merlin spent half of Christmas day with Hunith, and Arthur made sure Gaius got all the rest he needed. They couldn't lose the court's physician after all, could they?  
  
There were no gift exchanges and just a few decorations. The only significant thing they remember from that time was that as they were eating together – Arthur let Merlin sit and eat with him this one time for company's sake, and yes it became a tradition the two of them shared – it started snowing.

  
*********

Now, 5 years later, a lot had changed. They were alone at Christmas, like 5 years prior, but because of different reasons.  
  
Morgana had left them for her sister. For the dark side. I mean it had cookies, so.  
  
Gwen had betrayed Arthur in the worst way imaginable. With the most noble knight Arthur had ever had the pleasure of training. Even though Arthur had betrayed her in the same way with Merlin, more than once, he exiled her. The town's gossip was that another reason for that was so he could share his bed with Merlin more than he would have been able to if he'd married Gwen.  
  
Uther had died about a year ago, a loss that hit everyone extremely hard. Even Morgana.  
  
Mostly they were alone now because Morgana had, once again, taken over Camelot so they had to run away.  
  
At first it had been them, Gaius, and the knights, but they got separated somewhere in the middle of Cendred's kingdom so it was just them. Just the two of them.

  
*********

“Here. Let me help you with that,” Arthur says softly, as he takes the cloth out of Merlin's hands and continues washing Merlin's wound with his own hands.  
  
They'd been out hunting for food when Merlin fell and cut his leg on a tree log.  
  
Merlin looks up at him, after a while of just watching Arthur's movements, and gives him a weak smile. “Thank you.”  
  
Arthur stops cleaning the wound, cups Merlin's cheeks, and tells him, “you should rest. You can barely talk.”  
  
“M'fine,” Merlin murmurs, letting his eyes get shut.  
  
Arthur chuckles at that and kisses Merlin's forehead. “Sleep, you idiot.”

*********

Merlin awakes at the smell of smoke. Smoke. Like something is burning.  
  
“FIIRRREEE!!” Merlin jumps up and stares at Arthur's unmoving body with wide eyes.  
  
“Relax, bumpkin. I'm making breakfast!” Arthur snorts as he moves the stick – that was, I might add, clearly on fire – away from the sparkling bonfire.  
  
Merlin's whole body slumps down with relief. “I thought we had established that you should never cook. Not after that incident at Gwen's.”  
  
“Well that's kind of hard now that we're alone and you were asleep. Can't a man eat when he's hungry? What's becoming of the world?” Arthur shakes his head.  
  
Merlin puts on his overclothes and walks swiftly past Arthur towards the cave opening. “One day I'm going to be the one who finds you somewhere dead. And it will be because you were cooking and stabbed yourself with the spear. Or left the stick on for too long and it caught on fire. If you never cook again I might never have to hold your cold, or even withered, body in my arms.”  
  
“Merlin, come on. Don't be like that. You can't seriously be banning me from doing something nice for you once in a while?” Arthur questions as he grabs Merlin's arm.  
  
“No!” Merlin yells as he pulls his arm from Arthur's grasp. “Not like that. You can't cook if your life depended on it and one day it will. Now is not the time. We live in a cave, Arthur. A cave! We've lost almost everyone who's dear to us and the rest might also be dead for all we know. So no. You can't do the only thing that might get you killed, too. I won't allow it, and that's that.”  
  
“You won't allow it? Since when did I become your wench? We're talking about holding a stick with some dead animal over a fire. A really simple task.”  
  
“Yes, one would think so, but apparently even the simplest of tasks is too difficult for you to handle,” Merlin retorts.  
  
“And you say  **I'm**  the prat.” Arthur mumbles, sitting down on their made-from-scratch-bed.  
  
Merlin sighs, taking a few steps towards Arthur and tells him that he's really sorry.  
  
“We're fighting. We're fighting! In a cave! About killing ourselves while making dinner. When everyone else we know are probably dead. I am so sorry. If you want to serve food once in a while, you don't need my permission. I'm the clumsy one, so I really shouldn't be lecturing you.”  
  
Arthur looks up at Merlin, from where his head has been resting on his hands. “No you shouldn't. You're supposed to be  _my_  servant!”  
  
“Hey!” Merlin warns, and then they both snicker.  
  
Merlin takes Arthur's hands in his and drags him up. “Come on.”  
  
“I love you,” Arthur whispers into Merlin's hair as he embraces him more tightly.  
  
Merlin kisses him on the shoulder, whispering "I love you, too, clotpole. Love you. Love you. Love you. Love you so much," from his shoulder, up to his neck.  
  
Arthur smiles warmly as he closes his eyes and turns his head so Merlin can snuggle up to him more comfortably.  
  
After a few breathtakingly long minutes, Arthur opens his eyes. It takes him a couple of seconds to register what's going on outside but when he does he announces brightly that  _it's snowing_.  
  
“What?” Merlin's head comes up from it's nuzzling place at Arthur's neck.  
  
“Look,” he grins, turning Merlin's head to the side so he can see. “It's snowing.”  
  
Merlin stares in awe before bursting from laughter.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Merry Christmas, dollop-head,” Merlin smirks.  
  
“Merry Christmas to you too,  _Mer_ lin,” Arthur gives Merlin his shiniest smile, then kisses him softly.  
  
Merlin hums into the kiss, his hands grabbing at Arthur's hair.  
  
Arthur snakes his hands down Merlin's back, down, down to pinch his ass.  
  
“Cabbage head,” Merlin smiles drowsily.  
  
Arthur uses this opportunity to bite on Merlin's lower lip, his tongue following, licking into Merlin's mouth.  
  
Arthur ends the kiss by sucking on Merlin's tongue, and then giving him a peck on his plush lips. He nudges their noses together, resting his forehead on Merlin's.  
  
“What was that you said about me coming?” Arthur voices with a glint in his eye.  
  
“Prat.”  
  
Arthur nibbles his earlobe, as he purrs. “I love you, too.”


End file.
